I think...
Consider this thought experiment: try to imagine yourself without a body. Just an effervescent consciousness floating around the room – kind of like a ghost. It's a little awkward at first, but you can do it. You are capable of imagining life where one's body does not exist. But now, try something different: try to imagine yourself without a mind. Immediately, we run into some trouble, for how can we imagine ourselves without minds, if a mind is necessary to do the imagining? How can we, the consciousness of our minds, think if we do not exist? We can't. It follows, then, that if one is able to think, then one must exist.
This is similar to the thought experiment that led French philosopher René Descartes to famously declare cogito ergo sum – I think, therefore I am – in his seminal 1644 book Principles of Philosophy. You know that your mind exists, because you have the ability to think for yourself, to direct your thoughts at your own volition. You know that your mind exists, because if it didn't, you wouldn't be able to wonder, to reason, to comprehend this blog post. Because you can think, you know that, at the very least, your mind exists.
The question I submit to you now is this: how do you know if anything else exists?
There is a fairly well-known concept called the "simulation" theory. It is the proposal that everything in the world around us that is not our minds does not actually exist. Although we have the ability to perceive the world around us through our senses of sight, smell, touch, hearing, and taste, all of these senses are ultimately based on electrical signals that the brain interprets to create our consciousness. If our entire consciousness is based on electrical signals within the brain, wouldn't it be possible that our entire world, our entire reality, is a simulation – that all of us are all really just brains in a jar plugged into a computer that supplies the electrical signals that support our consciousness? When you raise your hand, your brain is sending electrical signals to the voluntary muscles in your arm, causing it them to expand and contract, thus raising the hand. The muscles then send signals back to the brain verifying that the hand was successfully raised. But isn't it possible that instead of a voluntary muscle, the brain sends the electrical signals to a computer, which then provides the necessary electrical signals back to the brain simulating a hand raise?
If you can understand everything so far, then can't you say that it is also possible that no other human being exists besides you? Whenever you interact with someone, it would be your brain sending an electrical signal to a computer that would send signals back simulating the other person. Of course, you could argue that someone had to have created the computer, but perhaps that computer is your mind itself.
This is related to a philosophical idea known as solipsism, and it can be immensely scary. It is the idea that only one's own mind is sure to exist – nothing more. Another branch of solipsism goes further and says that one's mind is the only thing that exists – nothing more. You know that you exist because you can think for yourself. But you cannot think for someone else. Others have their own consciousness, their own thoughts, their own minds. They can tell you that they can think too, and for the most part, we trust and believe them. I am telling you now: I can think. I'm thinking right now as I am writing this blog post. Do you trust me when I say that? Do you trust that I exist with you too? Or really, I should be asking, how can I trust that you exist with me?
I suppose we need to define what existence is. What does it mean "to exist"? The New Oxford American Dictionary has some insight:
The 1999 science fiction action film The Matrix popularized the concept of a simulated reality. The film depicts a post-apocalyptic world, set after mankind created artificial intelligence that eventually became more intelligent than humans. The humans and the machines waged a bitter war against each other, laying waste to the Earth as nuclear weapons were used. In a last ditch effort, the humans caused a massive climate change that blocked the entire sky with everlasting cloud cover, so that no sunlight could reach the ground. Since machines depended on the Sun for their energy, humans thought that the machines would slowly deplete their energy resources and die off. That didn't happen. The machines found an alternative energy source, one that would more than satisfy their needs: the human body. Indeed, the human body gives off enough heat and energy to power cities (I swear that this blew my mind the first time I watched the film). In order to utilize the energy given off by humans, the machines enslaved them by hooking them up to a computer system known as "the Matrix" that would simulate a reality set in 1999. Indeed, the entire world – trees, steaks, buildings, guns – is not reality, but a simulated reality known as "the Matrix". They are electrical signals – lines of code – sent to the brains of humans to keep them occupied while they are harvested for their energy.
The Matrix is based off of an ancient philosophical concept that is exemplified by Plato's Allegory of the Cave. Found in Plato's Republic, the Allegory of the Cave is a seminal piece in philosophical history, inspiring generations upon generations of art and thinking. Plato presents the concept of the Allegory a bit complexly. It was difficult for me personally to follow what he was describing when I first read it. I will, however, attempt here to paraphrase this awesome Allegory using 21st century language.
Suspend your disbelief for a moment and imagine a group of prisoners: these prisoners – ever since their childhood – have been chained and tied down inside a deep, dark cave, in such a way that they cannot move their heads or any other part of their body. As a result, they can only see whatever is directly in front of their eyes, since they can't move their heads or their body to see around them. Behind this group of prisoners is a burning fire (the prisoners cannot see the fire since it is behind them), which casts a light on the wall of the cave directly in front of the prisoners (which they can see). If a person were to put an object in front of the fire, but still behind the prisoners, the prisoners would see the shadow of the object on the wall in front of them, but nothing else. As a result, their entire knowledge of reality is confined to shadows in front of them. They know of nothing else – no sense of depth or even, perhaps, color. If one placed a book in front of the fire, the prisoners would see only the shadow of a rectangular object. Suppose the prisoners could talk to each other – they would start assigning names to the objects they see in the shadows before them. Perhaps they would create a competition to see who can name the objects the fastest.
Now suppose that someone from the world above (outside the cave) descended into the cave and freed one of the prisoners. The ascent would be difficult. The muscles in his legs – he would have never used them. More extremely, the whole concept of a third spatial dimension – he would have a hard time walking around, comprehending it. But ultimately, once he explores his freedom enough, he will grow sufficiently used to it that he will be able to make the climb up and out of the cave. He will see that the images he saw on the wall were nothing more than the shadows of three-dimensional objects from the "upper world". But most stunningly, he will see the sun. After spending years in the cave, the light of the sun would undoubtedly blind him for many moments. But once he gets used to it, he will see that there is far more to the world than just the shadows on the wall of the cave.
Awestruck, the freed prisoner will want to go back into the cave in order to show his fellow prisoners the awesomeness of the upper world. But alas, when he goes down, his eyes need to adjust to the darkness of the cave. The darkness temporarily impairs his vision so that when the prisoners continue their game of naming the objects, the freed prisoner is unable to name them fast enough. Because of this, the other prisoners in the cave will think that the ascent to the upper world somehow damaged the "enlightened" prisoner, and his rambling about how there's a whole new dimension with color doesn't really help his case. They think he's gone insane. The prisoners' skepticism causes them to establish a law, that whoever attempts to free a prisoner and bring them to the upper world shall be put to death. This isn't the upper world making the law – it's the prisoners themselves. Indeed, what prevents us from looking at the world from a new perspective is ourselves.
The Matrix is influenced by the Allegory of the Cave in many ways. The Matrix is the cave, and all of us living in the Matrix are the prisoners. The robots and the heroes of the story, who manage to hack their way out of the Matrix, live in "the real word" – the world outside of the cave. The main character in The Matrix, whose name is Neo, is pulled out of the Matrix when he is an adult. His mind is already accustomed to the simulated world of the Matrix – it's all he knows. You can imagine the shock and denial he must feel when he is exposed to the truth – the rugged ascent to the upper world. And you can imagine that if he ever goes back into the Matrix – if he ever goes back into the cave – and tries to prove that there's more to life than the world in front of them – more to life than the shadows on the wall – no one in the Matrix will believe him. They'll think he's gone insane.
There is one plot point of The Matrix that really stuck with me. One of the members of the team that frees Neo is named Cyber. Like Neo, Cyber was originally born in the Matrix but was shown the way out. But unlike Neo, he grows immensely disillusioned with the whole effort. In one scene of the film, Cyber secretly enters the Matrix alone to meet with Agents, sentient computer programs whose primary job is to stop humans from leaving the Matrix. Cyber betrays the entire countermovement by revealing their entire mission and plotting to murder all members of the team. In exchange, the Agents will reinsert Cyber into the Matrix, erasing all of his memories of the world outside the Matrix and making him someone rich and important.
In essence, Cyber asks us: even if we know that everything in the world around us is just a simulation, does that make the world any less real? We could ignore the fact and live our lives treating it as real, and quite honestly, there wouldn't be very many problems at all. What compels us to believe that because it is a simulation, the world is not real? Cyber loosely represents the prisoners in the cave who reject the enlightened man's tales of the upper world. From Cyber's point of view, the upper world is not any better than the cave, and he is willing to put those who attempt to free prisoners from the cave to death.
So going back to that metaphysical idea of solipsism – where you are the only thing that truly exists in the world – what does that really mean? Even if everyone else is just a simulation created by your mind, does that make everyone else any less real? According to Cyber, no. You can interact with other people, make friends with other people, throw a party with other people, agree and disagree with other people. If you break a law created by other people, they will arrest you and put you in jail. All of these things are real because they affect you emotionally and physically.
And yet I feel like something is off here. Cyber's view implies that the determination of whether something exists is subjective. That doesn't make a whole lot of sense because existence is an objective quality: you either exist or you don't. It's not something that changes depending on the perspective. Just because you refuse to accept that the upper world exists doesn't mean that the upper world actually doesn't exist – that only means you are wrong, that you are willfully ignorant of reality. You still have the theoretical ability to travel to the upper world – but you either choose not to or are physically incapable of doing so. The true determination of whether something exists or not requires looking at the entire picture – leaving the cave and looking at the world from every perspective. That's what objectivity is.
But going back to what Descartes argued: the only thing you know for certain exists is yourself, because you have the ability to think. The question is back to: how do you know if anything else exists? How do you know when you've seen the entire picture? How do you know if there isn't more you can't see? Perhaps I should just carry on by being ignorant. Ignorance is bliss. Who cares if things actually exist or not? They sure seem like they exist.
At the end of the day, I don't have any clever answers. I suspect that no one does. I do have, however, a small quote from a well-known author:
This is similar to the thought experiment that led French philosopher René Descartes to famously declare cogito ergo sum – I think, therefore I am – in his seminal 1644 book Principles of Philosophy. You know that your mind exists, because you have the ability to think for yourself, to direct your thoughts at your own volition. You know that your mind exists, because if it didn't, you wouldn't be able to wonder, to reason, to comprehend this blog post. Because you can think, you know that, at the very least, your mind exists.
The question I submit to you now is this: how do you know if anything else exists?
There is a fairly well-known concept called the "simulation" theory. It is the proposal that everything in the world around us that is not our minds does not actually exist. Although we have the ability to perceive the world around us through our senses of sight, smell, touch, hearing, and taste, all of these senses are ultimately based on electrical signals that the brain interprets to create our consciousness. If our entire consciousness is based on electrical signals within the brain, wouldn't it be possible that our entire world, our entire reality, is a simulation – that all of us are all really just brains in a jar plugged into a computer that supplies the electrical signals that support our consciousness? When you raise your hand, your brain is sending electrical signals to the voluntary muscles in your arm, causing it them to expand and contract, thus raising the hand. The muscles then send signals back to the brain verifying that the hand was successfully raised. But isn't it possible that instead of a voluntary muscle, the brain sends the electrical signals to a computer, which then provides the necessary electrical signals back to the brain simulating a hand raise?
If you can understand everything so far, then can't you say that it is also possible that no other human being exists besides you? Whenever you interact with someone, it would be your brain sending an electrical signal to a computer that would send signals back simulating the other person. Of course, you could argue that someone had to have created the computer, but perhaps that computer is your mind itself.
This is related to a philosophical idea known as solipsism, and it can be immensely scary. It is the idea that only one's own mind is sure to exist – nothing more. Another branch of solipsism goes further and says that one's mind is the only thing that exists – nothing more. You know that you exist because you can think for yourself. But you cannot think for someone else. Others have their own consciousness, their own thoughts, their own minds. They can tell you that they can think too, and for the most part, we trust and believe them. I am telling you now: I can think. I'm thinking right now as I am writing this blog post. Do you trust me when I say that? Do you trust that I exist with you too? Or really, I should be asking, how can I trust that you exist with me?
I suppose we need to define what existence is. What does it mean "to exist"? The New Oxford American Dictionary has some insight:
- have objective reality or being
- be found, especially in a particular place or situation
- live, especially under adverse conditions
- the world or the state of things as they actually exist, as opposed to an idealistic or notional idea of them
- a thing that is actually experienced or seen, especially when this is grim or problematic
- a thing that exists in fact, having previously only existed in one's mind
- the state or quality of having existence or substance
- Philosophy: existence that is absolute, self-sufficient, or objective, and not subject to human decisions or conventions.
- existence
- living; being alive
- the nature or essence of a person
- a real or imaginary living creature, especially an intelligent one (e.g. alien beings)
The 1999 science fiction action film The Matrix popularized the concept of a simulated reality. The film depicts a post-apocalyptic world, set after mankind created artificial intelligence that eventually became more intelligent than humans. The humans and the machines waged a bitter war against each other, laying waste to the Earth as nuclear weapons were used. In a last ditch effort, the humans caused a massive climate change that blocked the entire sky with everlasting cloud cover, so that no sunlight could reach the ground. Since machines depended on the Sun for their energy, humans thought that the machines would slowly deplete their energy resources and die off. That didn't happen. The machines found an alternative energy source, one that would more than satisfy their needs: the human body. Indeed, the human body gives off enough heat and energy to power cities (I swear that this blew my mind the first time I watched the film). In order to utilize the energy given off by humans, the machines enslaved them by hooking them up to a computer system known as "the Matrix" that would simulate a reality set in 1999. Indeed, the entire world – trees, steaks, buildings, guns – is not reality, but a simulated reality known as "the Matrix". They are electrical signals – lines of code – sent to the brains of humans to keep them occupied while they are harvested for their energy.
The Matrix is based off of an ancient philosophical concept that is exemplified by Plato's Allegory of the Cave. Found in Plato's Republic, the Allegory of the Cave is a seminal piece in philosophical history, inspiring generations upon generations of art and thinking. Plato presents the concept of the Allegory a bit complexly. It was difficult for me personally to follow what he was describing when I first read it. I will, however, attempt here to paraphrase this awesome Allegory using 21st century language.
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| Plato's Allegory of the Cave (image by Gothika, CC-BY-SA) |
Now suppose that someone from the world above (outside the cave) descended into the cave and freed one of the prisoners. The ascent would be difficult. The muscles in his legs – he would have never used them. More extremely, the whole concept of a third spatial dimension – he would have a hard time walking around, comprehending it. But ultimately, once he explores his freedom enough, he will grow sufficiently used to it that he will be able to make the climb up and out of the cave. He will see that the images he saw on the wall were nothing more than the shadows of three-dimensional objects from the "upper world". But most stunningly, he will see the sun. After spending years in the cave, the light of the sun would undoubtedly blind him for many moments. But once he gets used to it, he will see that there is far more to the world than just the shadows on the wall of the cave.
Awestruck, the freed prisoner will want to go back into the cave in order to show his fellow prisoners the awesomeness of the upper world. But alas, when he goes down, his eyes need to adjust to the darkness of the cave. The darkness temporarily impairs his vision so that when the prisoners continue their game of naming the objects, the freed prisoner is unable to name them fast enough. Because of this, the other prisoners in the cave will think that the ascent to the upper world somehow damaged the "enlightened" prisoner, and his rambling about how there's a whole new dimension with color doesn't really help his case. They think he's gone insane. The prisoners' skepticism causes them to establish a law, that whoever attempts to free a prisoner and bring them to the upper world shall be put to death. This isn't the upper world making the law – it's the prisoners themselves. Indeed, what prevents us from looking at the world from a new perspective is ourselves.
The Matrix is influenced by the Allegory of the Cave in many ways. The Matrix is the cave, and all of us living in the Matrix are the prisoners. The robots and the heroes of the story, who manage to hack their way out of the Matrix, live in "the real word" – the world outside of the cave. The main character in The Matrix, whose name is Neo, is pulled out of the Matrix when he is an adult. His mind is already accustomed to the simulated world of the Matrix – it's all he knows. You can imagine the shock and denial he must feel when he is exposed to the truth – the rugged ascent to the upper world. And you can imagine that if he ever goes back into the Matrix – if he ever goes back into the cave – and tries to prove that there's more to life than the world in front of them – more to life than the shadows on the wall – no one in the Matrix will believe him. They'll think he's gone insane.
There is one plot point of The Matrix that really stuck with me. One of the members of the team that frees Neo is named Cyber. Like Neo, Cyber was originally born in the Matrix but was shown the way out. But unlike Neo, he grows immensely disillusioned with the whole effort. In one scene of the film, Cyber secretly enters the Matrix alone to meet with Agents, sentient computer programs whose primary job is to stop humans from leaving the Matrix. Cyber betrays the entire countermovement by revealing their entire mission and plotting to murder all members of the team. In exchange, the Agents will reinsert Cyber into the Matrix, erasing all of his memories of the world outside the Matrix and making him someone rich and important.
"You know, I know this steak doesn't exist. I know that when I put it in my mouth, the Matrix is telling my brain that it is juicy and delicious. After nine years, you know what I realize? Ignorance is bliss."Life in "the real world" (the world outside the Matrix) sucks. Instead of eating actual food, they eat an artificial, unflavored composite of all the minerals and nutrients they need to survive. All humans must live in dark secrecy, for if they are ever discovered by the machines, they will be killed. Why would you live in this world, when you could choose to live in the Matrix, which resembles the world as it appeared in 1999? Wouldn't anyone want to live in the world where they can eat steaks and not have to worry about being killed by machines? When Cyber reveals his mentality to the rest of the team, they are shocked and confused. One of the characters admonishes Cyber, reminding him that "the Matrix isn't real!" Cyber is unfazed. He argues that the Matrix could be more real than "the real world", depending on your frame of reference.
—Cyber (portrayed by Joe Pantoliano), The Matrix, 1999
In essence, Cyber asks us: even if we know that everything in the world around us is just a simulation, does that make the world any less real? We could ignore the fact and live our lives treating it as real, and quite honestly, there wouldn't be very many problems at all. What compels us to believe that because it is a simulation, the world is not real? Cyber loosely represents the prisoners in the cave who reject the enlightened man's tales of the upper world. From Cyber's point of view, the upper world is not any better than the cave, and he is willing to put those who attempt to free prisoners from the cave to death.
So going back to that metaphysical idea of solipsism – where you are the only thing that truly exists in the world – what does that really mean? Even if everyone else is just a simulation created by your mind, does that make everyone else any less real? According to Cyber, no. You can interact with other people, make friends with other people, throw a party with other people, agree and disagree with other people. If you break a law created by other people, they will arrest you and put you in jail. All of these things are real because they affect you emotionally and physically.
And yet I feel like something is off here. Cyber's view implies that the determination of whether something exists is subjective. That doesn't make a whole lot of sense because existence is an objective quality: you either exist or you don't. It's not something that changes depending on the perspective. Just because you refuse to accept that the upper world exists doesn't mean that the upper world actually doesn't exist – that only means you are wrong, that you are willfully ignorant of reality. You still have the theoretical ability to travel to the upper world – but you either choose not to or are physically incapable of doing so. The true determination of whether something exists or not requires looking at the entire picture – leaving the cave and looking at the world from every perspective. That's what objectivity is.
But going back to what Descartes argued: the only thing you know for certain exists is yourself, because you have the ability to think. The question is back to: how do you know if anything else exists? How do you know when you've seen the entire picture? How do you know if there isn't more you can't see? Perhaps I should just carry on by being ignorant. Ignorance is bliss. Who cares if things actually exist or not? They sure seem like they exist.
At the end of the day, I don't have any clever answers. I suspect that no one does. I do have, however, a small quote from a well-known author:
"Tell me one last thing," said Harry. "Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?"
Dumbledore beamed at him, and his voice sounded loud and strong in Harry's ears even though the bright mist was descending again, obscuring his figure.
"Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"
—J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, 2007